


Do You Want to Be Doing Something?

by CookieMonstersRUs



Category: Bandom, The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Background Polyamory, Bandom - Freeform, Domestic, F/F, F/M, First Time, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inspired by Panic! at the Disco, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor, Multi, Music, also minor details, implied polyamory, not chronological, sorta - Freeform, sorta implied shitty pasts for minor characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieMonstersRUs/pseuds/CookieMonstersRUs
Summary: "You and I both know I'm barely on the album. I just took a detour for the night," Hughie said."Well, don't let yourself stray too far," Maeve warned. "You might never come back."'Like Ezekiel' went unsaid.(Trashy Bandom AU I wrote in two days)
Relationships: A-Train/Popclaw | Charlotte/Kevin (The Deep)/Ezekiel (implied), Becca Butcher/Billy Butcher (past), Billy Butcher/Hughie Campbell, Hughie Campbell/Robin Ward (past), Mother's Milk/Monique, Queen Maeve/Elena (past), Queen Maeve/Starlight | Annie January/Robin Ward/Elena (implied), The Female | Kimiko/The Frenchman, The Homelander | John/Queen Maeve (implied past)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 76





	Do You Want to Be Doing Something?

**Author's Note:**

> Basically instead of finishing the Boys fanfic y’all wanted, and instead of finishing the P!ATD fanfic all my other readers wanted, I combined them into this story. Basically, I’m remembering my P!ATD history and sorta wrote a story where Billy, MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and an idiot are P!ATD during Brent-era and Hughie steps in like Jon Walker when one of their players disappears. Includes The Seven as a popular country band, Starlight as an all girl band, Robin and Hughie as a former folk duo, and Voughtour.

When Butcher got his hands on Charles Mesmer, he was going to throttle him to hell and back. Their set was in two hours and he hadn’t picked up their calls for the past four hours. Butcher knew touring and Vegas was a terrible idea--he _told_ Raynor that Mesmer had a gambling problem--but the venues had been booked months in advance. MM and Frenchie were trying to calm Butcher down, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Maybe he found a girl,” Frenchie suggested.

“Charlie?” Butcher snorted. “If we hadn’t walked in on that fucker and Courtenay, I’d call him a fucking virgin.”

“Billy,” MM soothed, “You need to relax. Charlie always came back in time.”

“I need a drink,” he growled. Neither MM nor Frenchie listened to him. Which was a good thing, since Butcher’d been three years sober.

“What you need is some water.” MM snapped his fingers and someone from the backstage appeared with a bottle. Butcher was always amazed with MM’s superpower. Whatever they needed on tour appeared with a snap of his fingers. Butcher suspected it had something to do with his smile. If MM’s wife Monique found out, Butcher would be out of a guitarist too.

Butcher opened the bottle and took a much needed gulp. He wiped his mouth and pointed at MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko, who had just appeared. “Someone needs to find that twat. That, or find us a sub because we’re not flaking on Voughtour.”

“We’ll find him,” Frenchie soothed.

Butcher had a tough time believing that.

* * *

Kevin had Hughie’s drumsticks _again_. Hughie found him twirling them in his hands as he chatted with one of the techies. Kevin had brought with him three sets of sticks on tour, but still managed to steal Hughie’s main pair.

“Kevin!” Hughie interrupted. Kevin frowned as the techie scrambled away. “What did I say about stealing my sticks?”

“I like the little carvings,” Kevin said. Hughie liked that about his sticks too. That’s why they were his.

“Yes, but they’re _my_ drumsticks.”

“It’s not like we’re using them.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “Homelander’s got us playing washboards.” It was true. _The Seven_ ’s most recent album Country Home featured less drums and more washboard, harmonica, and Maeve’s piano. Neither Kevin nor Hughie were fans of these musical changes, but they were the lesser members of _The Seven_ and they both knew it.

“You’re missing the point. You gotta stop stealing my stuff.”

Kevin sighed and begrudgingly handed them over. “I’m so bored, man.” He slung an arm over Hughie’s shoulders, leading him back to their dressing rooms. “Jessie told me they’re playing stuff like ‘Good for the Soul.’” He opened the door to their room.

“Yeesh,” Hughie said. Songs like ‘Good for the Soul’ only required one of the percussion boys to play. Hughie had lead since he was their usual drummer and Kevin played their more miscellaneous instruments. Hughie hated songs like ‘Good for the Soul’ since they mostly involved John crooning into the mic and praising God every other line. Kevin actually liked those kinds of songs. Hughie suspected it was because Jessie spent most of the time playing guitar on his knees and Kevin had a perfect spot to ogle without getting caught.

“The girl I was talking to?” Kevin sat atop one of the desks. “She told me one of the other bands is missing a drummer.”

Hughie popped open a coke. “How does someone lose a drummer?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Kevin laughed. “I think I might go see if I can fill in.”

“What do they play?”

“Rock.” Kevin made a face. Kevin was more of a pop kind of guy. Hughie started out in folk. But they both had somehow ended up in a popular country band.

Hughie actually didn’t mind rock all that much. “Hey,” Hughie offered, “why don’t you play our set tonight and I’ll go help out this other band?”

“Are you sure? Won’t Homelander get mad?”

Hughie rolled his eyes. “Homelander doesn’t give a rat’s ass who’s behind the drums. Besides, I’d rather play rock tonight then another rendition of the _God gave me the gift of his seed to plant in your fields_ crap.”

They both shared a chuckle. Hughie and Kevin weren’t particularly friends. Hughie didn’t like Kevin’s drinking and sleeping around. (Kevin had his reasons.) Kevin didn’t like Hughie’s closed-off nature. (Hughie had his reasons.) But both had spent hours upon hours in the back of the tour bus because the others couldn’t give a shit about the newbies.

“Thanks,” Kevin said. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you can repay me by not stealing my sticks,” Hughie told him. He plucked the drumsticks easily out of Kevin’s hands and left with a quick salute. 

Hughie had a band to go find.

* * *

Back in 2014, _The Seven_ were rising to fame and their drummer was writing his own songs. Ezekiel was one of the first members of the band John recruited. There couldn’t be a band without a baseline and Ezekiel was the best drummer on the west coast. (Hughie grew up in New Jersey on the east coast.) Ezekiel loved the band and his lyrics featured heavily in the first album, but then John and Noir started taking more creative license and Ezekiel wasn’t as much of a fan. 

So he left _The Seven_ and went solo. It turned out he had the voice of angels and a fantastic stage presence. He didn’t want to say goodbye to the drums during the live shows, but it was much harder to lure the crowd in behind a set. That didn’t matter, he got his own touring band and had a blast.

* * *

MM wanted to kick Charlie out of _The Boys_ since he’d stumbled on stage drunk in Denver. As soon as the gambling and sliding had started, MM was over it. He gave the guy a year to clean up his act, because he’d done the same with Butcher after the divorce, but it’d been two years and Charlie was still a dumb bitch when it came to casinos. The drinking had stopped, but the slots hooked him deep.

“Sue, how soon can you get him out of the contract?” If Billy knew MM was calling Raynor, MM would lose his balls. Raynor was their manager and she’d been saying for years that Charlie was their loose screw, even when it was Butcher sloshed all over the stage.

“MM, I told you, either Charlie needs to leave on his own or he’s with you until the end of the Voughtour.” They were halfway through Voughtour. He didn’t know if he could deal with Charlie for that long. “Have you tried looking for a replacement tonight? I have Zack out looking for him, but there’s a shit ton of places and Charlie’s a squirely bastard.”

“No I haven’t found anyone yet. I got Frenchie to take Butcher to get something to eat and I told some roadies about what was up.” MM rubbed his face. “I’m not sure if we can pull off a drum recording in a live set. We both know it’s tacky as shit.”

“If it comes to it…” Susan sighed over the phone. “Keep me updated, alright?”

“Alright.”

The call ended.

MM stared down at his phone, lost in thought. It was moments like these when he wished he was home with Monique and Janine. Touring and living his dream was nice and all, but it was rough being gone months at a time from his family. He needed to check in with the backstage manager and let one of the light technicians know about Frenchie’s purple fiasco request. He put his phone in his pocket and started walking. 

Then he immediately bumped into some kid.

“Crap.”

“Oh, hey, sorry,” the guy mumbled. They righted themselves and stared at each other. Okay, maybe not a kid, but definitely baby-faced with curly brown hair. Probably a techie. 

“It’s all good.” MM laughed. “Stressful day.” MM started to leave.

“Oh hey, do you know where I can find that band missing their drummer? A techie said they were from _The Boys_?”

MM blinked. “I’m from _The Boys_. I’m MM.”

“Oh cool. I’m Hughie.” He shoved a hand out. MM shook it. “Did you find your drummer yet?”

“No.”

“Awesome, I play drums for _The Seven_.”

MM had to hold in a snort. That shitty country band? MM usually didn’t give a shit about the other Voughtour players, but _The Seven_ were full of country snobs that took up airtime for real bands. “Okay, and?”

Hughie looked like he wasn’t expecting any resistance. Dude hid his shock fairly well, covering it up with another smile. “You need a drummer, I’m a drummer. Thought I could help.”

“I didn’t think there were any drums behind all that banjo.”

“It’s actually fiddle,” Hughie laughed, “but I see your point.” Then shrugged. “You guys play rock?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll admit I don’t have much experience with rock, but I know how to play ‘Hot For Teacher.’”

MM crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, you don’t play rock, but you know hot to play _Van Halen_?” 

Gave him a small smile. “It was to impress a girl.”

“This I got to see.”

Hughie shrugged. 

“Got a practice pad?”

MM lead Hughie out back and to somewhere private. MM watched as Hughie pulled out a set of drumsticks. And then MM watched him play a stellar thirty second rendition of “Hot for Teacher.” 

“Damn man, I don’t think even Charlie can do that.”

Hughie grinned. “So, what songs are you playing tonight?”

MM shook his head slowly, thinking. “I know you got skills, but I don’t think you can learn our whole set in an hour.”

“You got some headphones?” he asked, pulling out his phone. MM did and handed them over. “What songs are you playing.” MM told him. Hughie searched up their songs and plugged a headphone in. MM watched him listen, head bobbing in tune with it. “I won’t be perfect,” Hughie told him as he listened to ‘The Female of the Species,’ “But I can play the basic beat. Easy.” MM was about to ask, but Hughie had picked up his sticks again and started a perfect drum-line of their hit song.

“Are you some kind of prodigy?” MM asked. He was going to give Hughie his second-born for being so perfect. _The Seven_ were wasting Hughie’s talents if they didn’t feature a drum solo for each song.

Hughie shrugged. “I’m just kind of bored with country songs right now.”

MM would hate to see a bored Hughie.

“So, you go on in an hour?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, am I in?” 

“Uh, _yeah._ ” MM could kiss him.

* * *

At the same time that Ezekiel went off to be his own pop star, hit folk-duo _The Joel Posters_ were breaking up. Hughie had been surprised at the time, he hadn’t realized that Robin wasn’t into the music anymore, but she hated his drum lines, hated his French horn, his harp, his xylophone, and she most definitely hated his ukulele. She didn’t hate him, she assured, but their music wasn’t right anymore and their kisses weren’t either. She wanted to go solo and Hughie loved her enough to believe her when she said it would only be a year. A year turned into two and Hughie found that _The Seven_ were looking for a new band and Mallory suggested he get into contact with Stillwell even though she fucking hated her. Mallory hated to see him go, but Hughie understood he wasn’t needed anymore, so he left.

* * *

“Is he back?” Butcher demanded.

“No, Zach can’t find him, but listen, Billy, I found someone,” MM soothed.

Frenchie and Kimiko shared a surprised look. “You found someone?” he asked.

“Yeah, his name’s Hughie and he’s great.”

Butcher looked sceptical and like he was about to have an aneurysm. But both Kimiko and Frenchie trusted MM when it came to things like this. MM had gotten Butcher back into the game and gotten them a new manager when Mallory wasn’t working out. 

“You know what?” Butcher asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m calm. I’m _calm_. It doesn’t fucking matter. Where’s Isa? She’s supposed to do my hair.”

Kimiko led him away, leaving Frenchie with MM. “You found someone?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s good?”

“Better than Charlie,” MM told him. Frenchie laughed. 

It wasn’t particularly hard to be better than Charlie. “Where'd you find him?”

“He’s from _The Seven_.” They both wrinkled their noses. MM told him, “But I swear, I listened to the kid play--he’s great.”

“Whatever you say,” Frenchie crooned. “He knows we go on soon, yes?”

“He’s with Isa.”

* * *

Butcher did not know who let the twink into their dressing room, but Isa was applying make-up and talking to this boy and his name was let slip as Hughie, so Butcher gathered fairly quickly to not think about it too hard. He needed to change his shirt and shoes. Kimiko got her face primped and then it was Butcher’s turn. Hughie didn’t say anything to them, but smiled softly whenever Butcher glanced over. MM and Frenchie came in soon after to get themselves fixed up. MM and Hughie spoke to each other in soft tones, but Butcher couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

It didn’t matter. Butcher needed to focus on the music. And what he was going to do when he got Charlie in his sights. First throttle him. Then break his kneecaps. Then crush his balls.

“Ready?” Frenchie asked.

Butcher nodded and _The Boys_ took the stage. Voughtour had a great selection of music with the best bands across genre playing. Usually _The Boys_ played during Warped, but Raynor thought it would be good publicity and none of them could disagree.

They got on. Butcher glanced at Hughie setting up on the drums and shook his thoughts aside. His guitar was heavy on his shoulders, but a relief just the same. 

Then they began to play.

Butcher always liked the thrill of this. That’s why he became a singer and not some office lackey. The crowd and him had a rapport. They loved the way he said fuck and the way he growled into the mic. Butcher liked the dance and the sway of it, the hard guitar riffs and the sound of Kimiko’s keyboard. 

And then there was the drumline. Mesmer’s beat kept their songs glued together, provided the foundation where it was needed. Hughie’s drums… They seared right through Butcher and banged the crowd to life. Hughie clearly didn’t know their songs, not like Mesmer, who fell into the haze of it, no, Hughie’s drumming sparked new patterns of sound, brought with them life and envy and rock and roll. Butcher could listen to Hughie’s buzz for hours.

Butcher took what Hughie gave him and sang.

* * *

Hughie hadn’t had that much fun playing since Robin. _The Seven_ were his band, but that was just what he’d landed on when he’d been kicked out of his own band. _The Seven_ were great and the money was good, but Hughie only liked half the songs and Homelander was a nit-picky bastard. _The Boys_ , however, Hughie liked their music. He’d never heard of them before, nor listened to them, but it was fresh and it was hard and it made Hughie want to stomp his feet and march.

The set was great. Watching the other guys play was fantastic. MM told him that their singer was Butcher, their bassist was Frenchie, their pianist Kimiko, and MM was on the guitar. Kimiko had a great way of matching her keyboards to Hughie’s drum and adding her own flare. It was clear to Hughie that Frenchie was in love with Kimiko with how often he danced toward her. MM and Butcher were best friends, riffing off one another and Frenchie. And Butcher… Hughie hadn’t seen a great frontman in a long time, but Butcher was fantastic. Once or twice, Hughie found himself fumbling with his sticks as Butcher growled into the mic. Jesus, Homelander would _never_. 

Hughie liked the energy of this band and so he made sure to play as good as he could get and then some. By the end of it, he was a sweaty and jittery mess, but he was smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled in a performance.

At the end of it, they were all laughing and excited. MM clapped him on the back and Butcher even smiled at him. Frenchie and Kimiko waved at Hughie before disappearing with a giggle from Frenchie. (Kimiko was clearly the top.) MM was vibrating in his place and it was clear to Hughie that that didn’t happen much because Butcher was eyeing him with surprise. They both were flushed with excitement.

“That was fucking amazing!” MM shouted. “Hughie, I could just kiss you.”

Hughie laughed. “It was a lot of fun.”

“You played good,” Butcher said.

Hughie smiled. “You guys were awesome.” _Much better than The Seven._

“Charlie’s a fucking piece of shit compared to this guy,” MM muttered.

“Yeah…” Butcher had a strange look on his face.

Hughie rubbed the back of his neck, then checked the time. _The Seven_ would be going on soon. He should probably check back in with them. “Listen, I have to get back to my group, but if you need someone to fill in, you’ve got my number.” He nodded at MM, who swapped phones with him earlier. They exchanged a few more pleasantries. Hughie didn’t want to leave, but he needed to go before he said something stupid, like ask to join _The Boys_.

When he got to _The Seven_ , they were all dressed up and ready to go on stage. Kevin was fiddling with his drumsticks and eager to play, talking a mile a minute with Jessie. Homelander was too busy with Lucent and Noir to notice him. Maeve was the only one to notice Hughie’s arrival.

“You’re not coming on stage,” she said. It sounded like both a question and order.

“Yeah, I was helping out another band. Their drummer bailed.”

“So you bailed on us?” Maeve raised a brow.

“You’ve got Kevin and it’s not like I’m much on the washboard.” Hughie nodded at Homelander, “It’s not like he noticed.”

Maeve chuckled. “John’ll have a fit after the show. You know how he is.” 

Hughie snorted. Homelander only wanted Hughie on stage over Kevin (besides Hughie’s superior drumming skills) for the sole reason that Hughie could pull off a cowboy hat and Kevin couldn’t. Homelander was all about image and aesthetics. America, cowboy boots, and roses. Hughie was a little sick of looking at the American flag.

“You and I both know I’m barely on the album. I just took a detour for the night.” 

“Well, don’t let yourself stray too far,” Maeve warned. “You might never come back.”

‘Like Ezekiel’ went unsaid.

* * *

He’d been with _The Seven_ for three years. Robin had two albums under her own name and there was chatter among his old folk friends that she was looking into joining Annie January’s group. Hughie liked Annie, they met at one of the VMA after parties and shared mudslides. Annie was a solo artist, but a year and a half ago, she picked up a drummer named Elena, and Hughie knew it was only a matter of time before Annie started making a band. Hughie hadn’t expected Annie to pick up his ex-girlfriend. Their girl band, called _Starlight_ for now, wasn’t ready for tour or album, but they’d find their fourth sooner or later.

As for _The Boys_ … Hughie couldn’t help but like them.

* * *

Homelander threw a fit once their set was over, having noticed half-way through that Kevin was on the drums, not Hughie. Hughie had to contain the eye-roll, mostly because he’d seen Lucent stumble across stage in a vague-whiskey stupor, and Homelander always had his favorites. And his repression.

There were stories, murmured in passing thought, one piece after another, about Homelander, and his first manager. Vogelbaum was out of the business, half in part because he was getting old, and because he always picked his singers young. Homelander was one of his first and certainly not his last.

Hughie didn’t give Homelander much thought because Homelander got like this quite often. He ragged on them all at one point or another. Kevin got the worst of it--and Hughie suspected Maeve got it worse behind closed doors--but they all had to bear the burden of Homelander’s mini tantrums. Only Stillwell seemed to have a grasp on John Homelander and even then, just barely. 

The group of them still went out to dinner together and _The Seven_ went on.

* * *

Voughtour continued. Butcher kept an eye out for the liners at the different stops. They all gave Charlie the stink-eye, and the others had agreed that at the end of the summer, they’d be looking for a new drummer. Butcher wasn’t one for hope, but he and MM both agreed to get in touch with Hughie when the time came. It was usually in poor taste that one band poached from another, but Butcher and Frenchie had watched one of _The Seven_ ’s sets during the tour and agreed that Hughie’s talents were wasted.

MM and Hughie texted quite often. Butcher didn’t mean for the to bother him, but it did, for some stranger. Maybe it was because Frenchie had been texting Hughie too, and even Kimiko had a snap streak with the drummer. Butcher and Charlie were the only ones without texts. Maybe that was what was bothering him: that he wasn’t like the others.

There were seven cities left. _The Boys_ would feature in four of them, _The Seven_ in five. Charlie got his shit together for the next two and flaked on the third. Butcher had been reluctant yet eager to call Hughie.

“You need someone to fill in?” he asked over the phone. His voice was calm, rational, like he wasn’t doing them a huge favor but getting his next dentist appointment.

“Yeah--fuckin, Charlie--we go on at seven, will that work for you?”

Butcher listened to Hughie over the phone, the rustle cutting through the airwaves. He wondered what Hughie was doing. It was ten in the morning. Maybe he was still in bed, maybe he was with someone. Butcher didn’t know, he usually didn’t want to know.

“Our set’s at six,” Hughie told him. Butcher thought he was saying no to them. “I think we’re playing our older stuff at the beginning… I can check with Kevin and Maeve, but I think it should be fine.”

“Hughie, fuck man.”

Butcher listened to him laugh over the line. “I’ll stop by around one? I gotta check in with _The Seven_ at noon and get back to them at four, but that should be enough time to go over your stuff.”

Butcher thanked him again. Whatever curdling anger he had towards Charlie was quickly transforming into gratitude for Hughie. It was strange to him, to not be so choked full of anger.

Hughie showed up at their corner of the festival in a graphic T-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. He looked more like a scene kid than a country boy. MM had told him once that Hughie started out in the folk-side of the industry. He couldn’t imagine him in an oversize scarf or a jean vest, but he could imagine him here with them, in the rock scene.

He played beautifully that night too. His drums were of a louder tune than Charlie’s and he was already sharing laughs with the other band members. Butcher liked the way Hughie laughed, like he was just as surprised as the rest of them to be so happy. Butcher wanted to keep him for forever, but knew he couldn’t. Hughie’s wasn’t his to keep.

* * *

The last stop of Voughtour was in Oregon. Usually it ended near NYC, but this was perfect. Annie lived on the outskirts of Portland, in a three story house filled with plants and bohemian curtains. Elena liked Annie’s house. They drank wine on the patio and fucked in the claw bathtub. It’s also where they wrote all their songs because Elena’s apartment was empty and Robin lived with Annie much like Elena did. Elena hadn’t wanted to come with Annie, but Robin was too lazy to leave their bed, and they all knew that Annie got lost on the way to the grocery store. Neither wanted to imagine what would happen if Annie got into a crowd of people without Elena or Robin to protect her.

Elena wasn’t a fan of big crowds, but Annie loved them. Every good frontwoman needed to be able to work the crowds and that’s why Annie sung and Elena hid behind the drums.

“You and I both now this is low,” Elena told her as they walked around the fairgrounds.

Annie wore a baby blue cotton dress. Elena knew she was wearing pink panties underneath and the temptation was unnerving. Before Annie, Elena had some control. Now she was some kind of hedonist. 

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you mean.”

“Poaching will get us blacklisted from tours before we even began.”

Annie brushed her aside with a lofty laugh. “We’re not poaching, just taking a looksy.”

Elena knew Annie better than that. They needed a fourth player. Three could’ve worked, but they all knew their sound needed something, something a little heavier. 

“You know, most bands fall apart during tour-season,” Annie told her. “And plenty bands are retiring.” This didn’t make Elena feel any better about their tenuous band. If they didn’t get their shit together for an album, they might fall apart on tour. None of that sounded good. Annie must’ve seen the concern on her face because she back-tracked with, “Plus, you and I both know there are plenty of roadies who are looking for a band to join.” 

That was how Annie found Elena: taking care of openers for Annie’s solo tour.

“I worry you’re just gonna get yourself disappointed.”

Annie leaned over and brushed her lips against Elena’s cheek. “I wouldn’t fret. We’ll find someone, I can feel it.”

Elena doubted that. They spent the next four hours listening to bands. Most were good, most of the bands they liked, most played well together. Elena didn’t know what Annie was looking for exactly. All they knew was that they were missing something. None of them cared if it was a guitarist, a trumpeter, or a harmonica player for fuck’s sake. Robin had been in a duo with a guy who could play half the instruments in existence, but there was a specific kind of feeling they needed for the music to amount to anything.

It was nearing four. Elena wanted to go see _The Boys._ Elena knew Kimiko back in college and they’d stayed in touch over the years. Plus, it was always a joy to see Butcher in his natural element. But, Annie pulled her to the other side of the fairgrounds when the beginnings of a fiddle started.

Elena would put her foot down if Annie added a fiddler to their group. But, as they got closer to the crowd, Elena had a sickening feeling in her stomah as a fiddler, drummer, and familiar pianist backed the country whinings of some white guy. Annie was swaying with the music, but only parts of it. It took Elena a moment to register that Annie was swaying to the piano and not the stellar drummer.

“I found it!” Annie laughed. “That’s what we need!”

“The piano?”

“Yeah, look they’re great!”

Elena didn’t want to look at the stage, but she could never resist Annie. To her growing horror, Elena’s eyes found the pianist in the country ensemble. The pianist was a red-headed woman and she seemed to bop with the lead singer. The worst part was that Elena knew the pianist and she knew what she was like spread in her bed. She knew because she’d dated the pianist for all of three years before getting her heart broken. She knew this wasn’t going to work.

She knew because it was Maeve.

* * *

It was days like these when Jessie wanted to punch Hughie Campbell in the nose. It was bad enough he had to sit with Homelander, Lucent, and Noir chatting about country (white) pride on the tour bus with an uncomfortable Maeve sitting in the corner headphones in. It was another thing to have Kevin, who’d been sitting beside him for all of breakfast, to trail after Hughie to the back of the bus when called.

Jessie hated to think about what they were doing back there.

That Campbell bastard always rubbed Jessie wrong. Maybe it was because he didn’t say much and was always sure of himself when he was with the band. Maybe it was because he had Kevin smiling at him in mere days where it took Jessie months. Maybe it was because--and this, Jessie hated to admit the most--Hughie was a better drummer than Ezekiel. 

Jessie didn’t talk about it much, because it hurt too much to say, but Ezekiel took a piece of him when he left. Maybe it was because of their last jam together, where Ezekiel had taken Jessie’s hand in his and told him he was a fantastic guitar player, called him a _train runner on the strings_. Jessie had also hated Ezekiel some days because he and Kevin had clearly fooled around after sets, and Jessie was the only one looking out for the poor kid.

Jessie couldn’t talk about Ezekiel with _The Seven._ Homelander, Lucent, and Noir all hated the guy. Maeve and Ezekiel were cousins so they couldn’t really hate each other. Jessie hated him, for leaving, and missed him, for leaving. He couldn’t talk to Kevin about it because Kevin would say something that left Jessie bitter and furious. (Envy.) The only person he could talk honestly about Ezekiel with was Hughie and Jessie would rather claw his eyes out than talk to that fucker.

* * *

Most of _The Seven_ lived in Texas, but Hughie was in Georgia where he belonged. After the fall out of _The Joel Posters_ , Hughie’d fled from their Maine home and went down south because it felt better somewhere new than somewhere familiar. Most of _The Boys_ lived in L.A., but not all.

Hughie discovered that himself when he ran into Billy Butcher at a jazz concert. Both were surprised by the other.

“You visiting?” Butcher asked.

“No, I live here.”

“Fucking hell, really?” 

“Really.”

Butcher laughed. “Me too. I can’t believe you’ve been around the corner this entire fucking time.”

Hughie shrugged. “I moved here a couple years ago. I’ve been coming to this show for that long too.”

“Me too,” Butcher told him. “All this time…” He reminisced as if Hughie’s was already his.

“Are the others from here?”

“No. They’re out in L.A., but I always come home after tour.”

“Yeah, most of _The Seven_ are in Texas. But I like it here better.”

They spent most of the concert around each other. Hughie met up with a couple of the performers he’d met years ago and Butcher had his own people to chat with, but they always found each other again. It felt right to sit beside Butcher and talk about jazz. They also talked rock and country for a bit. Hughie liked the way he talked. He was absolute in his opinions, while Hughie rarely had a definitive opinion on anything. Butcher liked musical rules. Hughie liked giving chances to each singer, each song, each instrument. It’s what got Hughie where he was and it’s what made him and Robin work when they did work. 

By the end of the concert, Hughie and Butcher lingered in the parking lot. He wanted to invite Butcher to a bar or something, but then he remembered that Butcher was straight-edge and Hughie wasn’t much of a drinker. He thought it might be too forward to invite Butcher back to his place, because even though they barely knew each other, there was darkness in his eyes, lust and intent, and Hughie knew from the start of this whole _The Boys_ thing that Butcher was hot as fuck, but Hughie wasn’t about to voice that unless there was a green light.

“Listen, Hughie…”

Hughie straightened. “Yes?”

“I was thinking about you.” Hughie liked the sound of that. “MM and the others are coming down in a couple of weeks. You should join us, for a session.”

Hughie deflated. Of course, the band. Not that, Hughie wasn’t eager for the band, it was just… Hughie cleared his throat, “I thought you had a drummer.”

“Charlie’s out.”

“I’m already in a band,” Hughie reminded him.

“It’ll be fun,” he said, completely missing the point. Hughie liked that about Butcher. 

“Fine,” Hughie said. “But only until _The Seven_ need me again.”

“Okay,” Butcher agreed, but there was a smile in his voice, like he didn’t think Hughie would be able to leave _The Boys_ once he started. Hughie hated that Butcher was probably right.

“Okay.”

“Another thing,” Butcher started.

“Yes?”

Butcher reached forward and pulled Hughie in for a kiss. It was sweet and then a little dirty. Hughie thought he might fall over if Butcher didn’t have such a strong presence on him. Hughie discovered, rather deliriously, that Butcher’s beard was rough and his hair soft, and his tongue fucking wicked. He was more than a little confused when Butcher pulled away and asked him, “Are you doing anything this Saturday?”

“No?” He was a little breathless.

“Do you want to be doing something?”

“Uh, yeah?” And then kissed him again.

* * *

The VMAs were a huge hit for Ezekiel. His most recent album You Found Me had won him some awards and now it was time to celebrate. Ezekiel was famous for his after-parties. Even when he was a part of _The Seven_ , he knew how to throw a kegger that had even John Homelander grinning. Ezekiel’s parties were in part a free-for-all fun time to be had. Anyone at the awards was invited. It was only the people Ezekiel was trying to snub that were given invites. 

Maeve was a given. Ever since his aunt had made side comments at Thanksgiving about Ezekiel’s music, Maeve had been on his shit list. They were still family, but that didn’t mean Ezekiel wasn’t the type to brag. Besides, it was Ezekiel, not Maeve, who was getting awards for his musical excellence. Suck on that Aunt Dominique. 

Jessie was also given an invite because he’d been trying to get into his boy’s pants for years and still didn’t seem to get the memo. Ezekiel had a soft spot for Kevin, but fucking him knowing that Jessie would make a sour face the next day was always icing on the cake. 

Homelander was always invited with the gaudiest envelope, but the prick never showed up.

The people that came because they were his friends were the guys from _The Boys_ and Annie January. He and Annie had been openers for each other for a couple years and they had a duet together on his last album, so he liked her well-enough. Charlotte didn’t like that Annie was coming because she’d gotten it in her head that they’d fucked, but Ezekiel had told her a thousand times over that was Annie was as straight as a circle and had nothing to worry about. 

Ezekiel and Frenchie knew each other from when they were both sixteen and scene boys in the Vegas area. Neither expected the other to make music, much less be famous for it, but if anyone deserved to celebrate their continued fame it was Frenchie and Ezekiel. Frenchie brought with him the rest of his _Boys,_ which didn’t bother Ezekiel since he liked them well enough. He didn’t get why MM showed up since he had a baby girl back at the hotel and he didn’t get why Butcher came when he clearly didn’t drink anymore. But Butcher had brought with him someone leggy. The two of them were pressed close together, hands in each other’s pockets. It was disgustingly sweet.

It took Ezekiel a long moment to recognize the dude. Hughie Campbell, his replacement! Ezekiel got a kick out of that and then remembered that Hughie Campbell could play him under the table, so he wasn’t about to mention it anytime soon. The drinks were pouring and Charlotte was wearing that low-cut top he liked, so the party commenced.

* * *

The more Hughie played with _The Boys_ , the more he wanted to join the boys. One jam session became two then ten and Hughie was actually starting to remember their songs instead of having to cram-memorize them before the big show. Hughie played differently than Charlie did, but Frenchie, who wrote a lot of their songs, loved whatever it was that Hughie did to their drumline. 

Hughie liked playing _The Boys_ and they liked having him. They’d even shown Hughie some of their in-progress work. Hughie felt honored when they started asking for his opinion, really asking for his thoughts. And Hughie gave them his ideas, cautious at first, thinking he was overstepping, and then more eagerly when they actually started to play and it sounded just right.

He also liked their after sessions, when they all went out to dinner and shared stories. And even after that, when Butcher gave Hughie an easy smirk and they necked like teenagers in the back of Butcher’s car. Everyone in the band seemed to know what they were up to, but didn’t particularly care. It would’ve been hypocritical of them anyway since Frenchie and Kimiko were clearly in love. At dinner, MM and Frenchie threw napkin wads at each other and debated Shakespeare. Kimiko was quiet at all times, but Hughie was starting to get good at reading the crinkle in her eyes and the wrinkle of her nose. And during all of this Butcher’s arm was either over Hughie’s shoulder or his hand heavy on his thigh.

Sometimes they asked him questions and Hughie would answer most of them. He normally wasn’t so open with new people, but something about _The Boys_ felt right. So he told them about his musical beginnings (Maine) and about all the strange instruments he’s played (he’d done the bagpipes at a friend’s wedding) and about the silly things he’d gotten up to on tour (one time, he’d brought a rubix cube on stage out of boredom). He still kept some things to himself. He wasn’t ready to talk about Robin or _The Joel Posters_ and he wasn’t ready to talk about _The Seven_ and whether or not he might be leaving them.

He wasn’t ready to answer when Frenchie asked, “So what’s with the drumsticks?”

* * *

“I want you,” he said, but not to him.

Kevin blinked in surprise. Jessie and him had been chatting in one of the far corners of the house. Usually Jessie didn’t like to spend this much time with Kevin, but these days, he’d been nicer, perhaps clingier than usually. Something must’ve happened over tour, maybe a bad one night stand, but Kevin liked it, liked having Jessie’s attention. 

They’d been discussing the awards. Somewhere, in the party, Kevin had spotted Hughie with another dude. A shame, Kevin hadn’t realized the dude was bi. They could’ve been fucking when they were bored instead of all the times they played cards. Jessie thought it was unfair that he hadn’t won Best Guitar Riff and although Kevin would always agree with Jessie, he also thought their most recent album hadn’t been their best work, hadn’t been anyone’s best work. As Jessie went through another rendition of how the system for allocating awards was always harder to achieve for black men (not wrong) their gracious host interrupted their conversation with eager hugs.

Kevin and Ezekiel shared a sloppy kiss. This was one of the few remnants of their previous relationship. Even though Ezekiel didn’t want Kevin anymore, they still kissed like it was New Year’s Eve and the clock had struck twelve. Beside him, Jessie had scoffed, and to Ezekiel’s left was a feisty brunette with a pixie cut. She didn’t seem particularly bothered by their kissing, but she also had Ezekiel’s arm wrapped around her as soon as they stopped, so it was clear to Kevin that Ezekiel was taken.

They talked about their successes of the evening and their respective lives for about ten minutes before Ezekiel, all charm, announced that he was “Starting a band,” and the he wanted Jessie to be a part of it.

Kevin frowned. Was he invisible or something? Ezekiel liked to play games, but they were never on Kevin.

Jessie looked between Kevin and Ezekiel. “Dude, I’m already in a band.”

Ezekiel clicked his tongue, “Are you?” The girl, revealed to be Charlotte, giggled at his side. “Homelander’s a fucking square. You should be out with real talent.”

“I…” Jessie looked surprised. “I thought you hated me, man.”

“Hated you?” Ezekiel laughed. “C’mon, the only man I hate is John Homelander and last time I checked, you weren’t boy-wonder. You? I like to mess with, but I don’t hate you. And you’re fucking wicked on the guitar.”

“Thanks.” It was like Jessie had never been complimented before, which was a lie because Kevin told him he was awesome at least five times a day. But still, Kevin was standing here, completely lost, because Jessie was being offered a position in Ezekiel’s new band and that’d mean he was leaving Kevin. Like, forever. The fuck? Jessie glanced at Kevin again and must’ve seen the scowl on his face because Jessie wrapped a possessive arm around him and announced, “I’m not joining any band without Kevin in it.”

Ezekiel laughed, outright _laughed_. Kevin had never been one for violence, but he was just about ready to rip Ezekiel’s perfect hair out of his head. “Dude, he’s already in it.”

Kevin blinked. “What? Since when!”

“It’s kind of a given,” Ezekiel said. “You’re my number one, kid.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, ever since Oxford.” Kevin blushed. Oxford was the first time Ezekiel had fucked him. “So are you guys in?”

Kevin and Jessie glanced at each other. 

* * *

Robin and him laid in the back of their van as their driver took them from Cincinnati to Cleveland. They spent the first two hours napping, then the third sharing lazy kisses. Hughie laid his head back on his arm, resting his eyes. Robin was getting restless beside him, fiddling with the blankets, sorting through their backpacks, making bored noises. Hughie was about to tell her to come back to bed, but she finally found something of interest and laid across his stomach. He reached down and combed his fingers through her hair.

After a while, he looked over and realized what she was doing. She’d gotten ahold of one of his drumsticks and a knife and had started carving into his stick. He didn’t even think about protesting. Part of him knew he should’ve, but it was Robin. She always knew what she was doing.

“Are you going to do both of them?” he murmured.

“You don’t mind?” There was an easy quirk to her lips.

“I guess not.”

It became a tradition for them. Hughie didn’t get new sticks often, but when he did, he handed them over to Robin and let her go wild. She was wicked with a knife. (That must’ve been why it was so easy for her to cut him loose.) One time she carved waves into his sticks, another time their names and an old poem of theirs. The sticks Hughie used now were from his own knife skills. All he did was make a couple of rings along the base. He, rather guiltily, carved _The Joel Posters_ ’s logo (deer antlers) into the base of one stick and Robin’s initials in the other. 

As the years passed, Hughie felt less like he was holding onto her and more like he was reminding himself of what happened when things fell apart.

* * *

Hughie hid his face in Butcher’s neck. Butcher wasn’t a drinker and Hughie usually wasn’t either, but he’d gotten himself a couple flutes of champagne in celebration of his recent success. Despite _The Seven_ ’s mostly banjo album, their only drum-heavy song “Over the Hill” had won them Best Country Song. So Hughie was more than pleased with himself as he ended up at one strange party with the rest of _The Boys_. Hughie had to sit next to the rest of _The Seven_ for the awards ceremony, but Butcher and him had kept up a steady stream of texting as they made fun of the other nominees and discussed plans for later that night. Hughie was looking forward to being facedown in a mattress if Butcher got his way.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Hughie murmured in Butcher’s ear. “Water? I’m sure there’s juice somewhere.”

Butcher’s chest rumbled. “Water’ll be nice.”

“I’ll go get you some.” They shared a sweet kiss. Domestic. Hughie hadn’t been domestic in a long time, neither had Butcher from what he shared. That was alright with Hughie. If anything, being domestic was kinda nice. Sweet even. “I’m getting a rum and coke,” Hughie told him. “But that’s the last one for tonight.”

Butcher had this pinched look in his face. They’d had this argument before. Butcher felt like a ponce that Hughie didn’t drink around Butcher because he felt like he was keeping Hughie from having his own fun. But Hughie wasn’t much of a drinker and he honestly didn’t mind. Hughie used to smoke up with Robin, but he’d quit years ago, leaving alcohol his only vice. He didn’t mind limiting his drinking. It was for Butcher, yeah, but it wasn’t a big deal for Hughie. 

Hughie pecked him on the cheek. “I want to be sober by the time we get back,” he told him with a waggle of his brows. That got a laugh from Butcher, much to Hughie’s glee. He disappeared into the crowd of party-goers easily enough.

* * *

Some days Raynor dreaded these meetings. They happened once a month, when they were both in town, and always at some absurdly expensive organic coffee shop. Raynor would’ve preferred a grunge bar, but Grace was getting older in the years and her drink of choice had become tea rather than whiskey.

Mallory wore a white turtleneck and a creme shawl. On anyone else, it would look stupid, but Grace always had a way of looking dignified and queen-like. Sometimes it made Susan pick at her silk button-ups.

Raynor ordered a black coffee when she sat down. Across from her, Grace was already sipping on her Earl Grey in a turquoise cup. “Grace,” Raynor greeted.

“Susan,” she said with a tip of her head. “Thank you for coming.”

“You invited me.”

Usually they both just appeared on the first Sunday of each month, but sometimes they asked the other to come, out of formality or some kind of kindness to the other. Mallory used to be Raynor’s mentor and that connection really never disappeared despite their different labels, genres, and musical tastes.

“I did. The awards were wonderful last night.”

“Plenty of great bands there.”

“Indeed.” Mallory folded the newspaper in front of her and fixed Raynor with a sly grin. “I see Madelyn missed out on quite a few awards.”

“No doubt because of you.” Ezekiel was a strange choice for Grace. Mallory usually represented the more indie bands like _The Joel Posters_ and Annie January, but Susan suspected Ezekiel was a perfect prize for Grace. Stillwell had been, after all, another one of Mallory’s prodigies. The mistakes she’d made with Madelyn weren’t made with Susan. There was more animosity between Madelyn and Grace. 

“So you invited me here to gloat,” Raynor summarized.

“In part,” she admitted. They both liked being better than Madelyn, so it wasn’t a loss. “I also wanted to discuss business.”

“Oh?”

“As you know, Annie is looking for another player, and Ezekiel is thinking of starting a group project himself.”

“My boys are content where they are,” Raynor said, a hard edge in her voice.

Mallory waved her concerns aside. “I know, but I have an inkling one of Madelyn’s prize sets will be missing a couple of gems.”

“Okay and?”

“And I think you are out of a drummer,” Grace continued. “And I think you will find that I’m offering you a diamond opportunity.”

“Why do you have any claim over one of Stillwell’s?”

“I obviously don’t have claim, not anymore,” Mallory said. “But I was Hughie’s first manager and I think you should keep that in mind when you look for a replacement.”

Raynor thought it might’ve been a gesture of good will or a threat. With Mallory, it was probably both. Raynor got her coffee and took a sip of it, considering.

* * *

Annie had originally gone to Ezekiel’s just for the fun of it, but she was pleased nonetheless when she showed up at the party, Robin in tow, and spotted their future pianist out on the patio. It was moments like these that Robin was glad Elena hated parties because if Elena was here, she would’ve stopped Annie before anything got started.

“Robin,” Annie crooned, “be a dear and get me a drink? Please?”

Robin rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to Annie’s cheek. “Only because you said please.”

Annie hummed and the two departed. Ezekiel’s party was already in the thick of it. There were some musicians Annie said hello to as she walked towards the patio. Normally Annie was friendlier, but there was prey in sight and she was determined to have Maeve Conway in her band.

When she got outside, Annie took a long moment to look the woman over. Conway did the same to Annie. Conway had long auburn hair and wore a golden dress that left nothing to the imagination. Annie wanted to tie Conway to a bed and never let her leave, but that was a story for another day.

She held a hand out to the woman. “Annie January,” she introduced.

“I know,” she said.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me.”

“I know who you are,” she repeated. Which, really, could’ve meant anything from _I know you because you and Ezekiel have worked together_ or _I know you because you make good music_ or even _I know you because I keep tabs on who’s fucking my ex-girlfriend._

“That’s good,” Annie said. “It’ll make all of this much easier.”

“What do you want?”

Straight to the point, Annie liked that. “I’m starting a band. I think you should be in it.”

“I’m already in a band.”

Annie snorted. “You could do better than _The Seven._ ”

“And you think _you_ are better?” Conway raised a brow.

She squared her shoulders and nodded. “I know I am. You’re what we need.”

“You’re not what I need,” Conway declared and took a sip of her whiskey.

Annie shrugged. “We will be,” she decided. “When you get bored, of _The Seven,_ of country, of Homelander.” Annie grinned when she saw the change in expression. “Then we’ll be waiting.”

Annie whisked away before Maeve could reply.

* * *

It took them about five dates before they got to this point. Neither was holding out per-se, but it didn’t seem like they were in a huge rush to fuck. Neither had been with someone in a long time. Fucks on the roads didn’t particularly count.

Butcher pressed his lips to the soft spot below Hughie’s ear and whispered, “The bedroom?”

They’d had dinner. Hughie could cook lamb chops and Butcher brought him a Merlot even though neither drank it. After dinner, Hughie brought out the chocolate tart he bought from the bakery down the street, and they spread out on his leather couch and started some superhero TV show. Hughie was drowsy as the night went on, but a comfortable sort of laziness, like he could melt into Butcher and never let him go.

Then he kissed Hughie’s skin and asked him that question.

He woke up enough to stand up, pulling Butcher with him. They shared a laugh as they walked to Hughie’s bedroom. Maybe in another timeline, they would’ve fucked on the couch or at the first show they played in. Maybe they would be rough to each other. Maybe they’d be slippery sweet. They were themselves.

Butcher got Hughie’s pants undone the moment they entered his room. Hughie took off his shirt, then Butcher’s. They made out at the foot of the bed and then on the bed, this time without their pants and boxers. They kicked off their socks at some point or another, either while they made-out or when Butcher got a second finger in him, it wasn’t particularly important. When they fucked it wasn’t slow. It wasn’t fast either. Just right. And they kissed for most of it, Butcher’s hand on his cock and Hughie’s legs wrapped around him. It was a little cold from the AC, but they managed to keep warm. And it was nice. And it was maybe a little perfect. It was somehow surprising, how well they fucked, how well they kissed, how well they were. 

* * *

At the same time that Annie was out talking with Maeve, Robin made her way to the bar. She ordered two glasses of champagne and while she was waiting, looked around, only to find her ex-boyfriend standing two feet away, staring at her in surprise. 

“Hughie!” Robin said, shocked and happy at the same time.

He looked sucker-punched to see her, which wasn’t really surprising. In a way, she had forgotten him. He was a chapter of her life she’d left behind, had ended to start her own career. In another way, she’d never lost what Hughie meant to her. Seeing him, she could read his face just as well as if they were playing together yesterday and not years ago. She could tell he was scared of her by the slackness of his jaw. Maybe not scared of her, not really, but the idea of her. It was okay, Robin felt the same way about him.

He cleared his throat. “Robin,” he said.

The bartender gave Robin her drinks. She set them on the bar and slid closer to Hughie. They both looked at each other, unsure if they were allowed to touch one another. They both wanted a hug, Robin knew that, but neither were going to make the move. It was like being in high school all over again with Hughie. It had been so painfully obvious on his face that he wanted to kiss her, but he never could work up the nerve to do it. It had been Robin to start most things. That was just a quirk of Hughie’s. He could start most things: the songs, the music, the touring, but he couldn’t start the rest of it.

“It’s good to see you,” she said and she meant it.

“Yeah, you too,” he said and she could tell he meant it. And he looked shocked that he meant it too. Maybe neither had gotten closure from the other. This wasn’t closure, Robin knew it, but it felt like the beginning of closure. Like maybe in ten years, if they kept running into each other every once in a while, they could call themselves friends again. Nothing more, but friends nonetheless. 

The music was dead for them. Robin had lost it long before Hughie had, but _The Joel Posters_ were over. Bits and pieces of themselves were in each other’s music. A lyric from Robin’s last album, a tom-tom roll from Hughie’s time at _The Seven_ , neither could deny themselves from their pasts. Robin knew he listened to her music because Mallory always passed along a CD copy to him, and she always got one in return, but neither said anything to the other.

“This feels weird, right?” he said. 

That surprised Robin. Hughie was never this forward about addressing the tension. She laughed. “A little. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

“Yeah, my boyfriend asked me to come.” Hughie looked like he half-regretted telling her that. She wasn’t sure if it was the sexuality thing or the I’m-talking-to-my-ex thing. 

It was definitely the latter because Hughie sighed in relief when Robin replied with, “Yeah, I’m with my girlfriend.”

Robin remembered in that moment that sometimes exes told each other about their current partners to fuel tension. They rubbed it in that the other had so clearly moved on. Couples like that weren’t ever over each other. Robin and Hughie weren’t acting like that. It was as if they were listing off simple facts about the other. Hughie had blue eyes, Robin liked spaghetti. Simple.

“I think you’re wasted at _The Seven,_ ” Robin told him finally. He seemed surprised that she would even bring them up. He looked like he was about to tell her ‘You and Annie and Elena are going to make great music together,’ because she could read him that well, but she didn’t want to hear what she already knew. “You should join a different group.”

“Yeah,” he said, which really didn’t mean much.

* * *

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Maeve who leaves _The Seven_ first. It comes out of nowhere because Maeve was basically Homelander’s right-hand-man. But she leave in early October, quietly to everyone’s surprise, and joins _Starlight_ three weeks later. If _The Seven_ were going to break up, it should’ve been in a huge blow out, like Ezekiel had with Homelander. But Maeve wasn’t Ezekiel and so she left and never looked back.

Kevin left next, this time with a few spat words at Homelander, because he had decided that he deserved recognition and none of them had given to him. Plus, Kevin was fed up with Lucent’s barely concealed homophobia and gave him a nice shiner to remember Kevin by. 

Hughie left around the time as Jessie, which was a surprise to everyone. A lot people speculated that they were fucking or something because they’d both left, but really, what had happened was Hughie got a phone call from Susan Raynor around the same time that Jessie got a call from Ezekiel. Hughie had never met Raynor before, but she told him neatly over the phone that she could get him out of his contract easily if Hughie joined _The Boys_ and that was a no-brainer.

So Hughie joined _The Boys_ sometime around Thanksgiving and was better for it.

* * *

_June 24th,_

_The surprising formation of the new all-girl band_ **_Starlight_ ** _chartered a debut album that reminds each of its listeners of the origin stories of each player. There is pop from Annie January, heavy metal from Elena Correia, folk from Robin Ward, and country from Maeve Conway. These influences shouldn’t work together, but they do. Their album_ _The Self-Preservation Society _ _reminds us what every good girl-band is: powerful, loud, and ready to fight. The band is still finding its groove, but it’s clear to listeners that_ **_Starlight_ ** _is here to stay and is worth sticking around for. 4/5 stars. The band’s next plans are to tour in…_

* * *

She liked Annie’s house. She liked how quiet the mornings were here. Maeve stood at the stove, frying pan in hand. She flipped over the blueberry pancakes and watched them sizzle in butter. None of the girls were downstairs yet. Robin liked to lay in bed until the late morning hours, or until someone called for breakfast. Maeve had left her in the yellow sheets, looking like a sleeping goddess. Elena was in the shower and Maeve could hear her singing even on the bottom floor of the house. Elena was never going to be their lead singer, but Maeve hoped that one day they could get her on backing vocals because Elena had a lovely voice. Annie was out walking her dog, Donna. She would be back soon, Maeve thought to herself. She would smell like flowers and fog. It was that time of year.

Maeve flipped the pancakes onto the plate, were a stack was starting to form. She’d have to add chocolate to the rest of the batch because Robin and Annie both had sweet tooths. Maeve sighed in content. There was something warm blossoming inside of her, it had been bubbling like that for weeks now. Maeve didn’t know what it meant or maybe she did. She hadn’t felt anything like it since her college years with Elena. 

She couldn’t wait to feel it some more.

* * *

_July 18th,_

_Dark horse of the industry, Ezekiel Benson, has created another fan favorite with his new band_ **_The Rejects_** _. Although overzealous with the synth and guitar riffs, Ezekiel and his crew manage to bolster an album that leaves listeners eager for more. Benson managed to lure Kevin Deep and Jessie Train away from disbanded_ **_The Seven_ ** _with long-suspected girlfriend Charlotte Claw. The group is destined for stardom, but their musical genius is lacking in grounding._ _The Big Ride _ _describes all the drugs, party scenes, and wasted nights infamous for all pop bands. It’s also clear that Benson could continue as his own solo artist easily, but has chosen_ **_The Rejects_** _. Until the group dynamic deepens, we’re left with 3/5 stars. They will be touring in..._

* * *

“I’m going to fuck you so hard into the mattress tonight,” Charlotte declared after the end of their set. They were all riding high on their performance. Jessie wasn’t sure who she was talking to. It could’ve been any of them, it could’ve been all of them. 

They had a party to go after this. Jessie knew already that he’d be shoved into the bathroom at one point or another by Kevin and given one of the dirtiest blow jobs in the world. Kevin got horny after amazing performances. It hadn’t been as much of a problem while they were with _The Seven_ , but it had become increasingly apparent the more often Kevin played with _The Rejects._ It wasn’t a problem though, Jessie could handle him. And if not Jessie, then Charlotte and Ezekiel.

Ezekiel snagged Jessie by the shoulder on their way out of the venue. Jessie turned around for a moment and was met with a wet kiss. Charlotte and Kevin giggled beside them. Ezekiel planted a wet smack on Kevin’s cheeks and then one on his lips. And then they were all trading kisses, back and forth, going crazy for it. It was perfect.

* * *

_October 25th,_

_After the dissolution of_ **_The Seven_ ,** _it’s obvious that John Homelander is grasping at straws with his new group_ **_Homelander_** _, with backings from Alex Lucent and Nathan Noir. Their album_ _The Innocents_ _, is lacking the headiness of_ **_The Seven_** _’s fourth album. While_ **_The Seven_** _’s decline began in their fifth album,_ _**Homelander**_ _only continues this musical deterioration. Until_ **_Homelander_ ** _sees what went wrong with_ **_The Seven_** _, 1/5 stars. Touring has not been announced yet..._

* * *

“Madelyn is going to have a field day,” Mallory said as she folded the newspaper.

Raynor barely held in a snort. “Don’t be cruel, Grace.”

“It’s only fair, I gave her a gift and she treated him poorly.” Mallory leveled Raynor a look too as if to say _if you screw with Hughie too, I’ll bury you_.

Raynor wasn’t particularly worried about it. Butcher seemed gone over the guy. It would be stupid of her to mess that up. “Her loss.” 

“Indeed,” Mallory hummed. “Congrats on the recent album. Five stars, that’s hard to get.”

“I’m sure _Starlight_ will get one soon.”

“Take the fucking compliment.”

Raynor laughed and did as she was told.

* * *

_April 24th,_

_Not much needs to be said. The departure of drummer Charles Mesmer left fans of_ **_The Boys_ ** _confused as to the direction of the band’s music. But former drummer of country band_ **_The Seven_ ** _and folk duo_ **_The Joel Posters_** _, Hughie Campbell, swooped onto scene. Campbell’s influence in their new album_ _The Bloody Doors Off _ _brings a life that fans of_ **_The Boys_ ** _hadn’t realized was missing. The easy back and forth between the various players, and the powerful baseline, combined with Tom Frenchie’s lyrics, create a force of nature. Expecting great things from_ **_The Boys_** _. 5/5 stars. Touring will begin June in…_

* * *

Hughie and Butcher laid together in bed, warm and soft with one another. Hughie’s hand cupped Butcher’s jaw and Butcher kept his hand heavy on Hughie’s bare hip. Butcher was starting to get used to this. It was a good kind of familiarity, the kind he could soak in for hours. They spent days at a time at each other’s homes. Neither had made any sound about who would move in with who, but Butcher knew it would happen soon. It was impossible not to see how this road led. Butcher would follow Hughie’s beat until he stopped singing and then some.

“I was thinking,” Hughie started.

Butcher grinned. “Go on.”

“We should add more snare to the song Frenchie’s working on,” Hughie said, “I think that would really make it stand out…” Hughie continued to talk about songs and plans for songs and Butcher found it so endearing that he listened to him speak well into the night. And when Hughie paused, Butcher kissed him, and then they were no longer dreaming up songs, but making some of their own music.

**Author's Note:**

> So in terms of sound? I'm thinking The Boys sound like Fall Out Boy (but like Save Rock and Roll FOB) but with the history of P!ATD sorta... IDK I went kinda crazy.


End file.
